Emperor Zhongzong lifted his gaze toward Pei Tan, and Pei Tan felt the crushing weight of imperial authority.
To say that the corpse was not Zong Huo—what did that mean? It meant someone had defied the emperor, that Emperor Zhongzong’s decree had not been carried out, that his authority had been challenged.
Emperor Zhongzong’s voice was cold: “Explain everything you have to say to me, one matter at a time.”
Pei Tan had come at midnight; clearly, he had much to report, far more than what he had already revealed. He gathered his robes and slowly knelt. “Your servant attended the wedding of Minister Su’s son. At the banquet, amidst the chaos, a false guest slipped a piece of human skin into my robe. The skin bore a tattoo. I traced the mark to the household slaves of Jing Zheren, the former Protector General. Following this clue, I dug up the ‘Zong Huo’ corpse from the palace graveyard and discovered… the tattooed skin had been cut from that body.”
Emperor Zhongzong’s tone sharpened: “This false guest—who was it? And how did you follow such a clue to dig up Zong Huo’s corpse?”
This was precisely what Pei Tan needed to explain. Kneeling, he said after a pause: “The false guest was slight of build, carried a faint fragrance, and was in fact a woman disguised as a man. In her gestures, she betrayed familiarity with palace etiquette. Thus, I deduced she was a palace maid who had escaped.”
A case involving human skin and a corpse now implicates not only a false execution but also a runaway palace maid. Emperor Zhongzong’s expression darkened further.
Yet Pei Tan continued: “That maid carried the stench of the graveyard. I risked investigating and found the soil above ‘Zong Huo’s’ grave freshly disturbed. When I ordered it dug open, inside lay a body dressed in the robes of the Minister’s household—a counterfeit corpse.”
Pei Tan’s meticulous reasoning, beyond the reach of ordinary men, unfolded step by step. Emperor Zhongzong stared at him in silence for a long moment.
“So Zong Chuke truly defied my decree to save his son?” Emperor Zhongzong’s voice was ice.
Pei Tan understood. Zong Huo’s fate had long been fixed in the emperor’s compass; his death was inevitable.
“Rise,” Emperor Zhongzong commanded.
The night was far from over. For what remained to be said, Pei Tan had to stand.
Emperor Zhongzong’s tone was heavy: “What proof do you have that I should believe you?”
Zong Chuke, after all, was still a Minister of War, once a prime minister of the Tang. Even if Emperor Zhongzong wished to move against him, he had to weigh carefully.
Pei Tan rose, tall and composed, and said: “Does Your Majesty know how the corpses of those executed in the palace are handled?”
Emperor Zhongzong cast him a sidelong glance. Pei Tan had unearthed a false corpse; clearly, he had done more than that.
Pei Tan explained: “The palace service quarters have always managed such tasks. Most importantly, the service quarters are located near Wenchang Gate.”
The palace had eight gates front and back. Wenchang Gate was the most desolate, rarely approached. Beyond it lay only graveyards. Thus, the handling of corpses naturally fell to the service quarters.
Pei Tan continued: “Your Majesty told me earlier you wished to retry the Jing case. Jing Zheren’s daughter, Jing Wan’er, after becoming a convict-slave, was assigned to the service quarters.”
Even Emperor Zhongzong’s eyes flickered at the coincidence. “Jing Zheren’s daughter?”
“Indeed,” Pei Tan said. “Five years ago, she was ten years old—just old enough to be sent into the palace as a convict-slave.”
Those younger than ten were sent to noble households; only those of age were taken into the palace.
Emperor Zhongzong’s gaze grew darker. “What are you implying?”
Pei Tan’s eyes were shadowed. “I sent men to inquire. For five years, Jing Wan’er has been the only one responsible for collecting corpses in the service quarters. None of the other maids has ever touched them.”
By now, even the emperor could not ignore the startling coincidence. He half-closed his eyes. “So you believe it was Jing Wan’er who handled Zong Huo’s body. And upon discovering it was not him, she cut away a piece of skin and deliberately delivered it to you?”
Pei Tan met Emperor Zhongzong’s gaze, tacitly confirming.
Emperor Zhongzong gave a short, bitter laugh. “You think a mere palace maid could wield such power? That she could even send a strip of human skin into your hands outside the palace?”
To convince the emperor, coincidence alone was not enough.
Pei Tan knew this. He said: “As I mentioned, the one who delivered the skin at the wedding was disguised as a man, but clearly a palace maid. It is likely she acted at Jing Wan’er’s command.”
“Enough,” Emperor Zhongzong snapped coldly. “Pei Tan, do you take my palace for a place where a lowly maid can escape its iron walls? Do not treat me as a fool with such tales.”
Pei Tan was silent for a long time, then raised his eyes. “If Your Majesty doubts, why not summon Jing Wan’er herself—to explain everything?”
Emperor Zhongzong’s gaze shifted.
Pei Tan’s voice was steady: “I can already conclude: only the one tasked with handling corpses could have touched the body, cut away the tattoo, and concealed it from all others. That person could only be Jing Wan’er.”
As for how she found another maid to carry the skin to Pei Tan, only Jing Wan’er herself could explain.
Emperor Zhongzong did not fully believe Pei Tan, yet he could not refute him, especially since Pei Tan had openly named Jing Wan’er.
After a moment, a palace servant approached. Emperor Zhongzong said: “Go and find out where Jing Wan’er, daughter of the exiled Jing clan, is now.”
The servant withdrew. Pei Tan and Emperor Zhongzong remained in silence within the hall.
After a long while, the palace servant returned and whispered a few words into Emperor Zhongzong’s ear. His expression darkened.
The investigation confirmed Pei Tan’s claim: the daughter of the Jing clan, Jing Wan’er, was indeed serving as a palace maid.
“Pei Tan, even if Zong Chuke deceived me, the act of Jing Wan’er cutting human skin is itself a capital crime,” Emperor Zhongzong said coldly, his face stern.
And more than that—the daughter of a disgraced criminal had shown uncanny ability, even managing to send messages beyond the palace walls.
Pei Tan looked at the emperor. By revealing Jing Wan’er’s identity, he clearly did not intend for Emperor Zhongzong to punish her.
“Your Majesty, if the daughter of the Jing clan discovered that the corpse she prepared was not the Minister’s son Zong Huo, but rather a slave who once served her family—how should she react? Would it not be natural for her to cry out for justice?”
For five years, she had lived as a slave in the palace. To one day find that the body she buried was her own family’s servant—being the legitimate daughter of Jing Zheren, once the cherished young lady of the Protector General’s household—if she had any blood left in her veins, she would use every means to seek redress. And one such means was to cut away the tattoo that marked a Jing slave, and deliver it to Pei Tan, the Minister of Judicial Review.
Pei Tan could foresee all of Jing Wan’er’s thoughts. In that moment, he placed himself in her position, seeing the case through her eyes.
Emperor Zhongzong was silent for a long time before saying: “Tonight, what you have told me must remain between us. No one else may hear it.”
Pei Tan replied: “That is precisely why I came at night, for the same reason as Your Majesty.”
If true, this matter could not leave the Zi Hall. It was enough to shake the foundations of the court.
Emperor Zhongzong’s second enthronement was not yet secure. If the Zong clan had truly defied him, and the case involved the descendant of a former third-rank official, the implications were grave.
Both Emperor Zhongzong and Pei Tan understood.
“If I recall correctly,” Emperor Zhongzong said, “the one who pressed hardest for the Jing clan’s exile was Zong Chuke himself.”
Pei Tan’s eyes glimmered darkly. “Who is to say Jing Wan’er’s actions are not revenge for that?”
Indeed, with such old enmity, upon discovering that her enemy’s son might still live, Jing Wan’er would be all the more determined to expose the truth. And she had succeeded. The once-young daughter of the Jing clan had become a silent, deadly maid within the palace.
When Pei Tan finally left the Zi Hall, he carried a secret imperial decree in his robe: Minister Pei, I command you to investigate this matter. Find where the true Zong Huo is, and uncover how the daughter of the Jing clan deceived all and brought this about.
For the emperor’s authority, whether it was a minister defying his decree or a palace maid overturning the order of things, both were acts of provocation.
To Emperor Zhongzong, they were equally intolerable.
To Pei Tan, the question was how a mere maid like Jing Wan’er had managed all this—how she knew of events beyond the palace, and even that the current Minister of Judicial Review was Pei Tan himself.
Meanwhile, Jing Wan’er quietly rose from her bed. In the corner of her room, a stick of incense burned slowly. A faint smile curved her lips.
The other maids, disgusted by the stench of corpses clinging to her, burned incense daily to mask it. They did not realize they were breathing in Jing Wan’er’s drugged fumes. She moved carefully to the window. Under the clear night sky, a pure white pigeon flew in.
Jing Wan’er raised her hand to catch it and untied the message tube from its leg. She unrolled the paper. It was a secret note from the escaped maid: *The Pei son has unearthed the corpse. The false Zong Huo’s identity is exposed.*
“The Pei son” meant Pei Tan. His reputation had already spread through Chang’an long before Jing Wan’er entered the palace.
Reading the words, Jing Wan’er’s lips curved again, unsurprised. She held the paper to the flame and burned it to ash. She released the pigeon back into the night. Countless messages flew daily in and out of the palace; one more went unnoticed.
For five years, Jing Wan’er had collected corpses, saving countless palace maids from death. Those maids, once freed, had gathered outside the palace into a vast network—becoming Jing Wan’er’s eyes and ears.